


Good Dreams

by Jezunya



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Fluff, M/M, post-notpocalypse, soft, soft quiet fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 19:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20971541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jezunya/pseuds/Jezunya
Summary: A quiet moment with a sleepy demon.





	Good Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on tumblr a little while back & just decided I really did want to have it on here too ❤️

Crowley is snuffling and a little restless in his sleep where he’s sprawled out across the sofa in the bookshop’s back room, and Aziraphale finds he can’t help himself: He miracles up a soft throw blanket, treading quiet as can be across the room to drape it over him. Surely, this is allowed. The demon does always complain of being cold, especially since they’ve settled so far from the equator, so far from where it all started... It’s a caring gesture, tucking the blanket securely around him, a kind gesture, nothing more, nothing that can’t be attributed to millennia of friendship. And now, after the Apocalypse-That-Wasn’t, now Aziraphale is finally allowed to show that care without fear of reprisals from either Above or Below.

The hand that strokes gently through Crowley’s hair next also can’t help itself, though, he knows, it is much more difficult to explain away as mere friendship. 

Crowley murmurs and shifts in his sleep, and Aziraphale freezes. The demon’s fists clench in the blanket, his entire form seeming to tense, curling in on himself, and then, to the angel’s horror, before he can pull his hand back, gold eyes blink open the tiniest amount. Aziraphale holds very still, leaning guiltily over his friend as his eyes flick around the room, still sleepy and unfocused, and then the tip of a narrow, forked tongue darts out between his lips – scenting the air, an action Aziraphale knows, after all these centuries, that Crowley doesn’t allow of himself unless he is very stressed or very, very relaxed. Crowley hums back in his throat, eyes sliding closed once more and all the tension seeming to melt from him. Aziraphale breathes a sigh of relief, but then freezes again as Crowley suddenly stretches and pushes his head firmly against Aziraphale’s palm. 

“Mm, good dream for once...” the demon sighs, a lazy sort of almost-smile spreading across his face as one long-fingered hand comes up to encircle Aziraphale’s wrist. “‘Snice...”

Aziraphale holds his breath as Crowley's slowly evens out, deepening with sleep once more. His grip around the angel's wrist slackens but doesn't fall away entirely, and Aziraphale finds he is loath to pull his hand back, especially if that is the sort of reaction such a simple, indulgent touch garners. 

"Sleep well, my dear," he whispers, finally allowing himself to move, fingers sweeping back through the soft, fiery locks and thumb brushing gently against Crowley's hairline. "There'll be many more good dreams to come, I'm sure."

Crowley hums again, but doesn't otherwise stir, and Aziraphale finally pulls back, content – and confident – in a way he hasn't felt in... well, ever. 

**Author's Note:**

> On tumblr [here](https://jezunya.tumblr.com/post/187027359659/jezunya-crowley-is-snuffling-and-a-little)


End file.
